CHAPTER XCIX.
THE STORY ENDS.
The old minutes of the Irish House of Lords can better explain than I the parliamentary process by which all the consequences of the judgment against the late Lord Dunoran were abrogated, as respected his son.

An ancient name rescued from the shadow of dishonour, and still greater estates, made my lord and lady as happy as things can.

So for the recluse Mervyn, and the fair Gertrude Chattesworth, our story ends like a fairy tale.
A wedding in those days was a celebration and a feast; and it was deemed fitting that the union of Gertrude Chattesworth and the youthful Lord Dunoran should await the public vindication of his family, and the authentic restoration of all their rights and possessions.

On the eve of this happy day, leaning on the youthful arm of kindly Dan Loftus, there came a figure not seen there for many months before, very much changed, grown, oh, how old! It was the good rector, who asked to see Miss Gertrude.
And so when he entered the room, she ran to meet him with a little cry; and she threw her arms about his neck and sobbed a good deal on that old, cassocked shoulder, and longed to ask him to let her be as a daughter to him.

But he understood her and, after a while, he wished her joy, very kindly.